The other day, my new dude, Juan, and I were talking about breakups. We both went through bad ones in the past six months or so and he has a female friend who’s in the drinking-and-crying stage of a breakup now. (‘Tis the season, I guess?) After they hung out, Juan told me he could still recall the sting she’s feeling right now.
“I remember how that is: feeling like no one is ever going to love you in the same way again,” he said. “You feel at that time like it couldn’t possibly happen ever again … even though you know logically that it will.”
When he said that, something clicked in me. That’s it. That’s the anxiety that I have been feeling these past three months after the end of a love affair. I have a complete willingness to get back on the saddle but have been feeling like no one is ever going to love me “in the same way again.” The feeling — for whatever reason — that I had only one chance at this.
Tila Tequila gets, like, 45 shots at love. Why did I convince myself that I don’t get more than one? Keep reading »